


Until

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: дезинформация [18]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Tony Stark, Catharsis, Cuddling & Snuggling, Ditch Your Emotional Baggage, Epiphanies, I Want To Live on Sexperiment Island, Lovesick Dorks, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Self-Esteem Issues, Sobriety, Tony Feels, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2620454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he opened his eyes, the room was still lit only by the arc reactor, still filled with the soft sounds of James’s breathing, the familiar weight of his hand resting atop Tony’s stomach. Everything was as it should be, except for the fact that it <em>wasn’t</em>. </p><p>Takes place sometime after <em>There Was a Moment</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kogouma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kogouma/gifts).



When he opened his eyes, the room was still lit only by the arc reactor, still filled with the soft sounds of James’s breathing, the familiar weight of his hand resting atop Tony’s stomach. Everything was as it should be, except for the fact that it _wasn’t_. 

Something was missing, but not missed—the suffocating, churning ball of doubt, and self loathing, failure, worthlessness, fear, urgency and doom had been extracted.

He hadn’t been left empty, though. On the contrary, he was packed to the gills with wonder, gratitude, relief, happiness, but most of all love. And adoration. And even more love. 

Really, it was crazy, he _felt_ crazy, he felt like he’d been given some sort of spiritual enema, which yeah, gross, not the best mental imagery there, but still. Not far from the mark.

Carefully, he shifted enough so that he could see James, but not so much that his hand would be dislodged. Tony liked feeling the weight of it there, liked knowing that his body heat had warmed the metal. 

In the semi-darkness, Tony watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way the blue light played with James’s features, the curves of his lightly stubbled cheekbones, the lines of his jaw.

Without realizing it, he found himself grinning wildly, his heart pounding away, feeling like he’d just saved the world ( _again_ ) because James _loved_ him. Which, yes, admittedly he’d been saying that for awhile, and it wasn’t like Tony hadn’t believed him when he said it, it was just different now.

Okay, ‘believed’ might be an exaggeration; he’d allowed himself to believe that _James_ had believed what he was saying, which was different. Really, importantly, crucially different. It was like believing _until_. Until something happened ( _it would be Tony’s fault, whatever this something was_ ) to open his eyes, to make James realize his mistake, and then that would be that. The little cracks in James’s love would become bigger and bigger over time, until the whole thing lost structural integrity, and came crashing down around Tony’s head.

Now that he was thinking about it, this so called ‘belief’ was the closest he’d ever allowed another person to his heart throughout his entire adult life, and usually people never even made it _that_ far. 

It was kind of sad, really, but when most of the people you met were only fucking with you to begin with, playing a high stakes version of pretend just to get something out of you, _until_ started to seem pretty good. Good enough, anyway. He’d convinced himself it was as good as _he_ was ever going to get. 

You love me _until_ … We’re friends _until_ … 

Until James, apparently.

Because, against all odds, miracle of miracles, James Buchanan Barnes actually, literally, legitimately, wholeheartedly _loved_ him. Full stop. No ifs, ands, buts, or untils, none of it. Just full on loved him, unapologetically, and with great enthusiasm, and for the first time in possibly his entire life, Tony had let go of his baggage—okay, more accurately he had traded in the complete set for a simple carry on, and stowed it properly in the overhead compartment—and just let himself be loved. Let himself feel worthy of being loved.

Oddly enough, the world hadn’t ended. In fact, he felt _amazing_ , which was sort of crazy in and of itself considering he’d spent the better part of the previous day crying in James’s arms. Now, he was trying to figure out why he'd waited so long. It wasn't like he'd expected James to judge him, or leave him, not after their last Serious Conversation.

Maybe he’d waited simply because he'd been enjoying feeling good again, was busy enjoying Bruce's, "I told you so," looks the day after The French Toast Breakfast, which, yes, was now marked as an official day of celebration in his books. He had all sorts of feelings about egg soaked bread that he’d never had before, because that was how his life worked, apparently.

Yeah, so Tony had been all wrapped up in enjoying the relief of having his little sobriety hiccup out in the open, reveling in his happiness over James’s steadfastness, and watching James show off the new arm. It wasn’t like he hadn’t earned a little respite from bullshit, so back-burnering all of the underlying issues had seemed like a perfectly reasonable approach.

Of course, days had turned into weeks, and they still hadn’t talked about his dream, thanks to his fancy evasive maneuvers. Time did its thing, and then he was getting notifications about upcoming rehearsals, and being asked about the bachelor party, which led to remembering he was stepping in for Pepper’s father, giving her away at the wedding. 

Suddenly, a simple debate over the catering ( _he still felt strongly that no one should be eating anything out of a fucking cucumber cup, thank you very much_ ) had resulted in him threatening to jump out of the window of his office unless Pepper backed down.

Even though he’d had no intention of actually following through on the threat, _something_ about the exchange had prompted Pepper to call in the calvary. Okay, in all fairness, he _had_ been shouting, and sure, he’d started sweating profusely, and his hands had been shaking, and by the time James arrived he’d been sitting _under_ his desk, but other than all of that, it had been a fairly typical day.

Thankfully, James had managed to defuse the situation just by being there. The calm had lasted about as long as it took them to get back to their suite, but once they were behind closed doors together, Tony had given up and just started puking emotions everywhere. 

Big surprise, almost all of them involved his father.

They’d spent the rest of the day talking, James finally getting all the gory details of his nightmare, which turned into sharing certain details of his childhood he’d never told _anyone_ about, like the first time he’d ever tasted alcohol. 

He’d shared all of his feelings about falling off the wagon, and how much he never wanted it to happen again, how terrifyingly difficult it was sometimes ( _for both of them, turns out_ ) to go into a battle scenario with the person he loved.

The whole scene had been Messy with a capital M, but cathartic in a way he hadn’t been prepared for. It wasn’t like that was the first time he’d cried in someone’s arms ( _Pepper, Rhodey, and especially Bruce came to mind_ ), but it was the first time he’d done it _sober_ since he’d been shipped off to boarding school at the tender age of seven. Apparently, sobriety made a big difference. 

Now he was wishing he'd done it ages ago, because he felt like he'd gotten some sort of amazing upgrade overnight. Whatever iteration of Tony Stark he was now, he liked it very much.

“I can hear you thinking.”

"I'd apologize, except they're mostly good thoughts. Honestly, you'd want me thinking these thoughts."

James opened his eyes, and there it was. That look, the look that made Tony feel like he should be writing in his diary like a lovesick teenager. Those blue eyes had been sucker punching him for what felt like forever, and he had a feeling that wasn't going to change any time soon. 

"Yeah?" The corner of James's mouth was lifted in a smile, and Tony gave in to his urge to touch, brushed the hair back from his cheek, tucked it behind his ear. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Tony screwed his face up in thought. "It's complicated? I'm not sure the way I feel can actually be summed up with mere words. It's probably best expressed through interpretive dance, but since I don't feel like getting out of bed, I'll just do the next best thing."

With this, Tony took a deep breath, and sighed contentedly, dreamily, fluttering his eyelashes at James while tucking his hands beneath his chin. James did his best to keep a straight face, but it was all there in the eyes. Happiness, specifically happiness that Tony had put there.

"So, better then." 

James got a good grip on him, then pulled him in tight, turning him along the way so that he could curl around Tony’s back. It was worth mentioning that because of James, Tony now had a deep appreciation for being the little spoon.

"Wow, the entirety of my groundbreaking emotional state reduced to 'better'," but he was failing terribly at mustering even fake irritation. "It loses something in translation, I gotta say."

James made a sleepy noise of agreement at this, face pressed against the back of Tony's neck. "Before your thinking woke me up, I was having the best dream," he murmured, shifting again so that Tony was tucked against him even more snugly. 

"Yeah? Was I there?"

"Mm hmm," and Tony shivered, the vibration of James’s voice, and warm exhalation of breath between his shoulder blades giving him the best sort of chills. "We'd quit the Avengers," James continued, "and were living on an island."

Tony felt his smile grow even wider, as he realized James wasn't half as sleepy as he sounded, and was in fact full of shit about this whole dream thing. "Interesting."

"You wouldn't let me wear any clothes," James added, digging his chin right into the ticklish spot between Tony's shoulder blades. "You had a white labcoat, a clipboard, and we were working through some sort of list."

Tony gave up and laughed, squirming as James continued with the chin torment, "You remembered," he finally managed, sounding a little awed. The stupid grin was definitely still on his face. "I actually have some islands picked out, I'll have you know."

"Of course you do," James pressed a kiss against Tony’s shoulder, "and how could I forget Sexperiment Island? It's all you talked about for a week."

"Yeah, well, that _was_ a while ago."

He didn't bother adding that most people filtered out his babble, wouldn't have remembered something so silly, and insignificant ( _except it wasn't, it'd been their first afterglow conversation, which made it important_ ) anyway, because James wasn't most people. 

James was _his_ , and loved him. Ha, take that, universe!

"I think you should know—the way I’m feeling right now—if it was within my power to do so, I'd have all of your babies. As many as you wanted. We could give them names that rhyme. I'd change my name for you, even. Anthony Edward Barnes, what do you think?"

James laughed, warm and low and all against Tony's back. "I’m good on babies, thanks. Anyway, the name of the company would have to change," he pointed out, tapping against the reactor, "think of the paperwork. Pepper would kill you."

"Good point."

"James Buchanan Stark," James said, his lips brushing against Tony's skin, and it was odd how hearing it made Tony’s insides feel like they were doing backflips. "Hey, do I even have a social security number anymore?"

"Dunno, I'll look into it."

James made another of those sleepy noises that Tony classified as adorable before rolling himself out of their bed. Tony watched him make his way across the room, lamenting the compromised view. Most mornings he was treated to James strutting around the place naked, but they’d managed to fall asleep half dressed the night before.

Feeling a bit like an overeager puppy, Tony scrambled out of the bed, rushing to catch up, but slowing at the last moment so he could saunter into the bathroom. James was yawning, and taking a piss, and entirely unphased by Tony’s arrival, because that was just how mornings worked with them.

“All you,” he said as he finished, and headed for the sink to wash up.

Tony hummed The Clash’s “I’m Not Down” under his breath while he took his turn emptying his bladder, watching James through his peripheral vision. There he was, squeezing toothpaste out onto his toothbrush, humming right along with Tony, probably without even realizing he was doing it.

Maybe it was because of their conversation, or maybe it was simply one of those moments, but just like that, Tony had an epiphany, a really good one, the best one ever.

“Holy shit, we’re married."

And sure, maybe _technically_ they weren't married, had never even had a conversation about marriage before, but what Tony had realized was that in all the ways that counted, the ones that really, truly mattered, they'd been married to each other for a while now.

Thankfully his words were drowned out by the sound of the toilet flushing and James’s enthusiastic toothbrushing. Proposing ( _announcing?_ ) marriage while taking a piss? He’d _never_ live it down, James would be teasing him for the rest of their lives.

“Hey, you know, with everything going on, I sort of assumed, and, ah, never actuallyasked.” 

James arched an eyebrow, then spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, and Tony grinned, while his heart did that little tugging thing, because _wow_ was he in love.

"Asked?" James prompted, grinning right back, and Tony had a moment of panic until he remembered he'd been in the middle of talking ( _not proposing marriage_ ) and had stopped in order to swoon over toothpastey spit of all things.

"Oh, right, wanna be my date to Pepper's wedding?"

"Clint will be disappointed, but sure, I'll go with you instead." He stepped aside so Tony could have the sink, leaning back against the counter. "Do I have to wear a bow tie?"

"Nope, only I get to wear one, because I'm special."

"Ain't that the truth," James looked him up and down like he was an all you could eat buffet.

"Probably worth mentioning the press will show up," Tony said around his own toothbrush. "Are you okay with, you know, this going a bit more public?"

"Sure," James answered with a shrug. "I'm not exactly top secret anymore. Are _you_ okay with it?"

Which really equated to asking if Tony was ready to deal with the possible dip in the company’s stock prices, or the Board giving him shit, and all of the rest of the associated potential PR fallout involved.

"Fuck 'em they'll either get over it, or they won't," and he was proud that he managed to avoid swallowing any toothpaste while saying it. “They might as well get used to it now.”

James smiled slyly at this, sidling up so he could hug Tony from behind while he finished brushing his teeth. "Should we give Coulson a heads up?"

"Nah, it'll be more fun for him if we don't."

James chuckled. "You _have_ been remarkably well behaved in public lately. Clint said Phil’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Tony spat, rinsed his mouth out, and hardly had time to put the toothbrush back before James had him spun around, and was kissing him. 

He'd always been a big fan of kissing, no doubt about it, had no idea how many mouths had been pressed against his own over the years, but none of them had _anything_ on James. He had a whole kissing repertoire, and Tony loved the entire breadth of his work. It was almost as if James’s mouth had been engineered to drive him crazy, the perfect balance of curve to his upper lip, and pout ( _depending upon his mood_ ) to the lower.

James had opted for the slow, soft, teasing approach this morning, pulling away when Tony tried to involve a bit more tongue.

"Got anywhere to be?"

"Back in bed with you?" Tony suggested, liking the little growl this got out of James.

Thinking it was a safe bet James was interested, Tony tried to start up with the kissing again, but instead found a cool, bionic hand planted firmly over his mouth. James was doing that precious looking at the ceiling thing, which meant he was about to talk to JARVIS.

“Hey, JARVIS, anything on the books for this morning?”

Tony made a noise of indignation and protest and generally tried his best to look put upon, while JARVIS answered, “You’ll be happy to know Ms. Potts has cleared sir’s schedule for the day.”

“Thanks, J.”

“I feel like I should be offended,” Tony complained once the hand was removed.

“Once bitten, twice shy,” James said, looking completely unapologetic, and mildly amused. “Last time I took your word on that, we were interrupted by an outraged redhead who threatened to end me with her shoe.”

“Oh yeah.”

Tony had forgotten all about that incredibly frustrating, slightly embarrassing, and oddly sort of awesome morning, which had involved numerous death threats being issued, if he was recalling correctly. He’d seen James dispatch HYDRA agents without so much as blinking an eye, but apparently Pepper Potts was a different sort of threat altogether.

He’d hardly had time to get his shoes ( _or his pants_ ) on before Pep was dragging him off, and James hadn’t even attempted a kiss goodbye for fear of having his arm ripped off and used against him as a weapon. 

Pepper had been entirely unsympathetic, and only let him out of her clutches once they were on the plane, and in the air. Of course, Tony had immediately snuck off to the bathroom with his phone in order to frantically jerk off while James talked dirty to him in Russian, which, while not ideal, had actually turned out to be _extremely_ hot. 

Unfortunately, it'd been much less fun for James, since he was stuck in a car with Steve and Sam by the time Tony had been able to call, and had to keep them in the dark while it was happening. 

For Tony, that had only added to the naughty factor, so that by the end of the conversation it was mostly him rambling on about all the filthy things he was going to do to James as soon as they were in the same building again, while James struggled to keep his voice calm, and casual as he encouraged Tony on towards orgasm.

Tony had made it up to him as soon as possible, with a video feed and everything, and then several times over once he was home again, but James clearly wasn't interested in a repeat performance of that particular morning.

“Hey, I keep things interesting, what can I say?"

"Something about the bed, I think?" and James took him by the hand, dragging him out of the bathroom.

They tumbled into the bed together, JARVIS having already raised the level of lighting in the room enough for them to be able to comfortably see ( _oggle_ ) each other. Tony didn’t have time to thank him, though, because he immediately had James’s mouth to contend with. 

Sighing contentedly again, Tony found James on top of him, which he was enjoying very, very much. It meant being able to squirm ( _struggle_ ) just that little bit under ( _against_ ) the weight of him, meant he could wrap his arms around the man, sink against the pillows, and let himself be kissed into oblivion.

Tony was neither ashamed by, nor proud of his sexual history. He liked sex, had liked it from the first time he’d begun experimenting, liked it lots of different ways, with different types of people, sometimes even with two people at once, and didn’t feel like there was anything wrong with that. 

Aside from a handful of encounters back before he was sixteen, he’d always used protection ( _until James_ ), got tested regularly, always made sure the person in question was old enough to ride the ride, and had done his level best to make certain whoever he was with had as much fun as he did.

Sure, he might not have always remembered their names ( _or ever bothered to find out to begin with_ ), and might have inadvertently hurt some people’s feelings, or found himself featured prominently on a sex tape or two ( _or more_ ) over the years, but whatever, it was what it was, and for the most part it had been fun.

Be that as it may, deep down inside he was a commitment guy at heart, always had been. Monogamy had never been as big an issue for him as emotional trust and intimacy. When you thought of yourself as unlovable it was pretty easy to sabotage your relationships, as he’d learned time and time again.

The point was, he'd been fairly confident that he'd had some truly amazing sex during his lifetime. Of course, as had happened with just about everything since James had come along, he'd had to reclassify and reevaluate what he considered to be true. 

He'd understood how love worked _until_... Thought he had a handle on sex _until_...

Until James, apparently. Again. 

Even from the very first time they’d had sex, James had completely, without a doubt, blown _all_ of his previous experiences out of the water. The strange mix of confidence, insecurity, and openness about what he wanted, and how much he wanted it ( _specifically from Tony, and no one else_ ) had been intoxicating. 

It was, in fact, so alarmingly and unbelievably brilliant that he'd have been willing to put money on it being a fluke. And, of course, James had immediately proven him wrong, because the next time was just as mind blowing, and had left him just as in awe of how in sync they were.

He’d actually spent a good bit of time after that initial experience trying to figure out how the hell a defrosted, time displaced, brainwashed, fellow PTSD sufferer had managed to completely redefine sexual ( _and_ _emotional_ ) pleasure for him.

It was almost embarrassing, really, because the answer was sort of obvious once he found himself admitting how head over heels in love with the guy he was. Go figure, sobriety, love, acceptance, and trust apparently went a long way for a good sex life with a partner. 

It didn't hurt that James was beautiful ( _on so many levels_ ), and needed Tony in ways no one else had before ( _which, oddly enough, was something he hadn’t realized he’d needed so badly_ ), and was enthusiastic, adventurous, and extremely observant. 

Even now, Tony still found himself in appreciative awe of James’s ability to pick up on his wavelength. There was a big disconnect sometimes between what he thought he wanted, and what he actually needed in the moment. James always knew, though, knew when things should be slow and tender, or playful, or quick and dirty, or a little rough and tumble. 

For his part, Tony never had to ask either, could tell just by the look in his eyes when James needed Tony to remind him of who and where he was, hold him, make him feel safe, and whole, and _yeah_. They were good like that, good at taking care of each other, good at anticipating and fulfilling each other's needs, which fit in perfectly with Tony’s whole marriage theory. 

It was why he knew without having to ask that James was going to take his time this morning, was going to slowly fuck him into the mattress until he was so blissed out he couldn't string words together coherently, let alone get tangled up in his own thoughts.

"Mm, thanks for yesterday," Tony said between kisses.

"Glad to have been able to give back some of what you've given me." James's smile was a little sad, a little shy, a little proud. "Thanks for letting me."

"You're amazing, have I told you that yet today?" Tony ran his hands up under the tank top James was wearing, dragging his fingers along the muscular contours of his back. "I'm so unbelievably lucky that you love me."

"Hmm, I like the idea of destiny more than luck," James countered, kissing him again. 

Minty morning kisses were some of Tony's favorites, especially in combination with petting. James kept them coming while his hand trailed down the curve of Tony’s jaw, his neck, and shoulder, then across his chest, fingers teasing over a nipple before stroking his flank, then working back up again. 

"Yeah, destiny," Tony murmured, lost in James's eyes, and the feeling of his mouth. "Let's go with that."

He pushed and tugged, and with a laugh James let him pull the tank top off so that they were both down to their underwear, which was much better.

Tony hummed contentedly as James kissed, licked, and sucked his way along his jaw, the shell of his ear, down his neck, nuzzling at his collarbone. Enjoyed the warmth of him, the feeling of skin against skin while breathing in the scent of James.

James worried at the curve of Tony's shoulder with his teeth, sucking on the skin there while making a happy little humming noise, as Tony played with his hair, and smiled stupidly over the familiar vampire routine. 

They each had their little respective kinks, and one of James's was leaving marks behind on Tony's skin. At first, he’d thought it was just a possessive thing, but there was more to it than that. James had still been distrustful of his memories when they’d started sleeping together, and so originally the marks had been used as proof to himself that the encounter had actually happened.

These days, it just served as erotic stimuli, which Tony was fully onboard with. Most of the time they were in places no one would see, but every once in a while he got carried away and Tony would find a large, obvious hickey peeking out above the collar of his shirt when dressing afterwards.

Admittedly, he got an entirely juvenile thrill out of this when it happened, and maybe sometimes even waited until James was at the brink of orgasm, then angled his neck enticingly so James would latch onto him as he came. 

James healed so fast that any marks Tony tried to leave were gone almost as soon as they were made, which meant he was the only one of them walking around with love bites or faint fingertip shaped bruises on his body. 

Of course, James was wearing something of Tony’s that was a little larger than a hickey. Even though the arm proudly displayed Captain America’s insignia, it was his loving craftsmanship very obviously attached to James’s body, which was definitely a thrill all of its own.

James returned to focusing on Tony's mouth, soft yet insistent kisses that had him making little hungry noises, his heart happily thumping away, pumping more and more blood south. 

Tony wriggled, and hooked a leg around James, rocking up against him, groaning loudly when James slid a hand up along the outside of his thigh, then beneath him to squeeze his ass. He had a few blissful moments of friction while enjoying James’s tongue in his mouth, before he lost all that pressure and weight, James shifting onto his side beside him. 

“Do I get to dance with you at Pepper’s wedding?”

James’s voice had already gone all low, and husky, and the question sent a little shiver through Tony, as it was asked right up against his ear, James’s breath puffing hotly across his skin. It was a nice contrast to the cool, metallic fingers teasing their way up and down the inside of his thigh.

“Oh, absolutely,” Tony answered, tilting his head back a bit to give James more room to nuzzle at his neck. “As much dancing as you can handle. I’ll even let you lead.”

“We can take turns.”

James brought their mouths together again, a smile in his eyes, and Tony was suddenly feeling much more excited about Pepper's wedding. They’d danced together a handful of times, but only while at home, and there was a part of him that loved the idea of everyone being able to see how well they moved together.

“You can dip me if you, _oh_ ,” Tony momentarily forgot about dancing as James began stroking him through his underwear, “want.”

“Might take you up on that offer.”

Tony grinned, chased after James’s mouth, catching his lower lip with his teeth, earning himself a soft, hungry noise in return. The stroking was definitely nice, he was a big fan of being groped by James, especially when he was also getting himself kissed stupid.

He went to reciprocate, eager to do a little stroking of his own, but James made a soft tutting noise, and intercepted his hand.

“Oh, it’s like that is it?” Tony asked, thoroughly enjoying the wicked glint in James’s eyes.

“Yup.” He shifted a bit, mouth latching onto one of Tony’s nipples, his hand back to stroking Tony's cock through his boxers.

Pushing his luck, Tony caressed the side of James's face, ran his fingers through his hair, which seemed to be on the approved interactions list, at least.

James teased his fingers through the opening of Tony's boxers, causing him to huff with pleasure, the contact almost maddeningly light. He shifted his hips, and James bit down on his nipple. 

"Patience."

"What if I have none?" Tony waggled his eyebrows, and earned himself a head shake. 

"I have enough for both of us." James was kind enough to stroke him with a little more purpose as he returned to the kissing. Tony could only wiggle, and whine, and suck on James's tongue, drag his fingers along muscled shoulders, play with his hair, all while James destroyed him with kisses, and got him hard enough that he began to worry he might come before ever getting naked.

"Please, so much pretty please, with all of the sugar on top, James," he finally groaned, "at least let me touch your cock, come on!"

"Hmm," James sat up, shifted back on his heels and studied Tony for a moment, before ordering, "out of the boxers."

"Oh, thank fuck," Tony all but cheered, yanking them out of the way and tossing them across the room.

James smiled, and made a little gesture with his fingers, indicating Tony should turn over, which he did as quickly as possible. James grabbed his hips, pulling him up and away from the bed, before giving him a little smack on the bottom.

"No touching yourself."

"Ooh, the hot bossy voice," Tony cooed, shifting his legs further apart. "Gah," which was hardly suave sounding, but entirely appropriate, because James had decided Tony's balls belonged in his mouth, which actually seemed like a great place for them, now that he was thinking about it.

Tony shifted more of his weight onto his forearms, spread his legs a bit wider, and groaned happily as James adjusted his focus, licking a hot, wet trail up between his asscheeks.

Tony was a big fan of James's enthusiastic approach to eating ass, which was balanced out nicely by how wild he got when Tony reciprocated. It utterly destroyed his willpower seeing James squirm, and spread himself wide, begging for it. Huge, _huge_ turn on. 

Before James had come along, it had been a while since he’d had anyone ( _except himself, when operating solo_ ) paying any attention to that particular part of his body in any capacity, really, and he had to admit, he’d missed it in a big way.

Over the years, he’d perfected his technique for feeling people out on their interest level where rimming was concerned, carefully hiding his disappointment if they weren’t, so as to avoid making anyone feel pressured.

Clearly, he had done something right in life, pleased some Asgardian demi-god of rimming, because—gift of gifts—James was as into it as Tony was, maybe even _more so_ , would happily bury his tongue in Tony's ass at any given moment. In Tony's experience, that level of enthusiasm was rare, and something to be cherished.

Tony all but purred as James stroked his thighs, his hips, made contented little noises, and took him to pieces with his tongue before sliding a metal finger inside of him, and then starting all over again.

"I love how much more of you I can feel now," James said, swirling his finger and making Tony gasp.

"See, my upgrades are always, ooh, win win," Tony mumbled, and James made a soft noise of agreement before pulling his finger back out. "Aww!"

"I'm grabbing lube," he chided, laughing.

He did just that, moving quickly, stopping to kiss Tony again, just enough to get him breathless, before his tongue was back to work.

"Lube, yes, because, ah, fucking me, _that_ would be good," Tony babbled, "you should do that."

James just chuckled, low and dirty, and Tony groaned as the finger returned, now lubed and bringing a friend along with it. With some quick manipulation, James had his mouth around Tony's cock, dragging a loud, guttural moan out of him.

And there went the higher brain functions, right out the window, two slick metal fingers working in his ass with James's hot, beautiful mouth wrapped around him. Tony shifted so he could look between his legs, watch hungrily. James's eyes were hooded, and serious, and Tony throbbed in his mouth, gasping loudly, enjoying the way James's lips visibly curled in a smile around his cock.

"You're still so dressed," Tony complained.

He regretted saying anything, because James stopped sucking in order to answer. "Behave and maybe I'll get undressed."

Yeah, the bossy voice was definitely a turn on. "Am I not behaving? I feel very behaved, ah, _oh_ , um. What?"

There was a laugh from behind him, as James curled his fingers again, and Tony gasped, and pushed back, trying to get more.

Three metal fingers working him, James licking and sucking at his balls, and a hand relentlessly stroking his cock meant Tony had to bite down on his lower lip to keep himself from begging James to just marry him already. He was going to have to do something about that, come up with an excellent plan soon, because proposing to someone while they had their fingers in your ass was _also_ not ideal.

Tony groaned, and rocked himself, taking fistfuls of sheets while alternating between squeezing his eyes shut and looking between his legs so he could watch James jerking him off, warm, lubed fingers tugging expertly at his cock, while three of the metal ones focused on his prostate. 

"Fuck, James— _oh, yeah_ —really?"

"Don’t worry, I'll get naked after you come," James said, "fuck you nice and slow."

Tony liked the sound of that, but also wasn't positive he'd be able to get hard again, and really liked being able to come with James's cock in his ass; it was probably one of his favorite things to do. 

At the same time, he was already dribbling, and throbbing dangerously in James's hand, his balls tight and tingling, and there wasn't any point in fighting a losing cause, _so_...

So he pressed his face into the bed, crying out loudly, sputtering a string of profanity while he came, and came, his whole body shaking with it, clamping down on James's fingers, his hips jerking spasmodically. 

James stroked him through it all, kissing and nuzzling the backs of his thighs, and softly encouraging him, until it became too much. James let go of him, the metal fingers sliding free, and Tony had a long, empty moment to catch his breath, James's breath warm against his ass.

"Was that behaving?" Tony asked once he was able to talk again, giggling a bit.

"Definitely. You get a gold star, Antoshka."

"Please don't make me think of Clint while you're— _oh baby_." 

Tony twisted so he could look over his shoulder. James was smirking, which was such a good look on him, it really, really was. He'd also taken his fingers, the ones sticky with Tony's come, and slid them between Tony's ass cheeks, pushed them inside of him, thrusting a few times before pulling out, and then...

"You're the best possible kind of pervert," Tony sighed, groaning as James began enthusiastically licking him clean. "Absolutely perfect."

"You say the sweetest things."

James grabbed him by the hips and rolled him like he weighed nothing at all. Tony grinned, and sprawled, and watched eagerly as James finally got naked.

Tony wasn't a size queen, had learned early on that there could, in fact, be too much of a good thing, and that either way, fun came in all shapes and sizes. Be that as it may, he'd absolutely thrilled the first time he saw James's ( _gorgeous, thick, ample_ ) cock jutting proudly out of his jeans, and hadn't stopped enjoying the sight of it since.

"Since I behaved and everything, do I get to suck it?" He batted his eyelashes and bit into his lower lip. James began touching himself, head tilted a bit to the side, his free hand stroking his chin as if he was in a state of deep contemplation, so Tony added, “Pretty please?” and made grabby hand motions.

“How can I say no to that?”

James slowly crawled his way up to the top of the bed, dragging his lips and tongue over Tony’s body along the way, helping himself to another kiss before he knelt beside Tony, who grabbed him by the back of the thighs, and pulled him in close.

Tony loved sucking dick in general, had always gotten off on it, but there was an extra special thrill in going down on James. He always made the most amazing, almost awestruck noises of appreciation, while adoringly stroking Tony’s face, or playing with his hair, murmuring little words of encouragement.

This morning, he seemed content to let Tony take over for a while, which suited him just fine. It meant he could lose himself in the taste, the scent of James, the weight of him against his tongue. Tease up along the underside, trace the contours of him with his tongue, get lost in the feeling of wrapping his lips around the head his cock, again and again, until James was whimpering.

Tony made his own little happy noises, and stared up at James adoringly as he began sucking in earnest, wishing he hadn’t already come, because he absolutely loved jerking off with James in his mouth. Loved watching James watch him do it.

James groaned loudly, and took hold of the headboard for support, as Tony grabbed him by the ass and just went for it, taking him into the back of his throat, feeling that wonderful, perfect combination of powerful, and vulnerable. He sucked, and bobbed, and encouraged James to fuck his face a bit, reveling in the taste of him.

Tony had no idea how long he was happily sucking away—he tended to lose track of time when he was doing something he loved—before James took him firmly, but carefully by the chin, and pulled away.

“Aww!”

But then he was getting kissed stupid again, with that perfect sort of urgency, James’s breathing coming quick, and loud, and so Tony grabbed fistfuls of his hair, and kissed back, chasing after his tongue, until even this was taken away.

James stared at him, his pupils blown, face flushed, and Tony could only grin back stupidly, thinking to himself, “I did that,” and, “I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

With a contented sigh, Tony stretched, watching as James began working lube over his cock, doing some sighing of his own. Before Tony could ask how James wanted him, he was being flipped over onto his stomach. He went to push himself up onto all fours, but James grabbed him by the nape of the neck, rubbing the muscles there, before moving down to massage a shoulder, then gave a little shove so that Tony was lying back down.

Taking the hint, he folded his hands beneath his chin and smiled, enjoying the one-handed shoulder massage James was treating him to, before becoming completely distracted by the return of the lubed fingers.

“See how patient I’m being?” He glanced over his shoulder, his heart hammering in anticipation. “I mean, I could totally be begging you to fuck me right now, telling you how much I need you inside me, but instead I’m being _patient_.”

James laughed at this, and pulled Tony’s hips up just a bit, began rubbing the head of his cock back and forth, back and forth, making Tony’s nerve endings scream with _want_. Draping himself across Tony’s back, James continued rocking himself against Tony’s ass, kissing the curve of his shoulder, before licking along the shell of his ear.

“I can tease too, you know,” his breath came in a hot puff against Tony’s skin, and he shuddered. “JARVIS said you had nothing on the books, so we have all the time in the world.”

“I concede,” Tony gasped. “You’re King Patience, always and forever. I’ll make you a new uniform and everything. Right after you fuck me.” 

James shifted back, spent some more time rubbing Tony’s shoulders, the muscles in his back, stroking his sides, and his ass, before finally— _finally_ —spreading him wide. Then there was glorious pressure, with just a hint of pain, and Tony’s breath left him; he could only focus on forcing himself to relax, to open, to take it.

Slow, slow, and slow. James hadn’t been kidding, was taking his sweet time, and Tony lost himself to it, hissing with pleasure as inch after inch was pushed inside of him, James once again caressing him everywhere he could reach, whispering soft words of praise.

Giving himself to James was liberating. He didn’t like to think of it as submitting, exactly, because it was less giving in, or giving up, and a whole lot more like letting go. Just ditching all the noise in his head, the doubts and fears, all the whirling distractions. He didn’t have to ( _couldn’t, really_ ) think, could let his mind quiet, could lose himself to the sensation of being filled, and stretched, and loved.

James had him by the hips, was sliding in and out of him now, a gentle rocking motion that already had Tony panting, and smiling, his face pressed into the sheets. The initial pain and discomfort had fallen away, leaving nothing but contentment in its wake.

Tony sighed, rolling his hips, dragging a groan from James in the process. There was something surreal about being fucked after having already come, the urgency being supplanted with awareness, and appreciation, and the slow rebuilding of desire. He could feel his body’s lazy response to the stimuli, but it was almost distant, fuzzy and indistinct when compared to the light, bubbling sensation of happiness that had taken up residence in his chest.

Almost as if sensing Tony’s haziness, James lowered himself until they were skin to skin, his warmth and weight pinning Tony to the mattress, hands sliding under and around, until Tony found himself wrapped up tightly in strong arms, could feel James’s breath against his skin, feel the roughness of his stubble, the press of lips against the curve of his shoulder blade. 

James licked and sucked his way up to Tony’s ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth. “Gonna be tough keeping my hands off of you while we’re dancing.”

He could feel the words spoken in a hot rush against his ear, James’s voice low, and strained, the sentiment punctuated by a particularly on-point thrust. Tony had a momentary flash of James groping him on the dance floor, of the two of them sneaking off somewhere semi-private to have a quick fuck against a wall, and there was no question as to whether or not he’d be getting hard again, because yup, that was already happening.

“Gotta say, the idea of grinding against you on the dance floor is pretty hot.”

Face nestled between Tony’s shoulder blades, James made a gravely sound of agreement; Tony could feel it vibrating through his own body, pressed together as they were, and shuddered in response, muscles tightening around James in the process. With a soft gasp of pleasure, James grabbed him by the shoulder, by the hip, pulling him back up on his knees in order to ride him a little harder.

“I really haven’t been scandalous lately.”

“No elevator sex outside of the Tower,” James reminded him.

Words spilled from Tony’s mouth, his voice made broken and disjointed by James’s thrusts, and his own breathlessness. “Do you have any idea— _fuck_ —how much we’d be able to sell that video for?”

James laughed, and landed a playful smack across Tony’s ass before pulling out, and rolling him onto his side. Tony hardly had time to process the absence of James’s cock, or his new position on the bed, before James was curled against his back, hooking one of Tony’s legs up over his arm, and sliding back into him.

With a soft grunt of pleasure, Tony shifted until he was more comfortable, reaching for the stubbled curve of James’s jaw, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, his heart lurching almost painfully. Some of James’s hair was plastered to his face, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark, and filled with adoration.

“Did JARVIS actually record us?" James asked, mouth curling in a sly, dangerous smile.

Tony swallowed, momentarily distracted by the heat in James's eyes. "Uh, no, the cameras were off."

"Hm, we could do it again with them on," and Tony's breath caught in his chest, partly from the suggestion, partly from James changing the angle of his attack. "No selling it though. I'm selfish," James whispered into Tony's ear, "you're for my eyes only."

Tony bit down hard into his lower lip, because it would probably _also_ be bad form to ask James to marry him in response to an offer to make their own porn.

James groaned, his thrusts slow, and deep. "I can tell you like the idea."

"Yeah, I don't know if there are enough positive adjectives to, ah, express my enthusiastic endorsement of this idea."

James's mouth was on his again, and Tony couldn't help it, he had to wrap a hand around his cock, start to stroke himself as he moaned into James's mouth. "I’ll build us sex drones," he babbled, “so we have lots of camera angles.”

Tony was rocked by another wave of laughter from James, and for just a moment was reminded of a time ( _not that long ago, really_ ) when James’s smiles were rare, his laughter rarer still. Thought of the heaviness he’d been carrying around with him for so long, too scared of what might happen if he just let it all go. Thought of how far they’d each managed to come since the afternoon Steve Rogers had walked into his workshop with the haunted, broken remnants of Bucky Barnes in tow. 

“Mm, bet we look beautiful together.” James nuzzled his neck, mouth sucking hungrily at the muscles there, and any residual laziness was washed away by a newfound sense of urgency. 

“Abso _fucking_ lutely.” 

Tony rocked his hips insistently, twisted and reached until he had James’s mouth crushed against his own, their eyes locked together, and that was better. 

Whatever it was ( _pride, an almost sweet melancholy, love, gratitude_ ) that had churned up inside of his chest must have shown on his face. In an instant, James had Tony on his back, legs spread wide, sliding home inside of him even as Tony reached for him frantically, arms and legs winding around James, pulling him in, breathing almost as if he might have a panic attack.

“I’ve got you,” James said, the beautiful, welcome weight of him pinning Tony down, metal hand cupping the side of his face.

Tony twisted, sucking James’s thumb into his mouth, reveling in the hot slide of warm skin against skin, James’s hair tumbling into his face. He was everywhere, and it was _perfect_ , it was just what Tony needed. He could only nod, and writhe, rut against the hard, muscled expanse of James’s body, and lose himself in the blue of his eyes, some of the urgency subsiding as he was able to ground himself again.

If he was being honest, he'd fluctuated on the aggressive eye contact early on. It had been hot, then intimidating, then _alarmingly_ hot, then just a little terrifying. Tony had spent some time wondering if James had been as ferocious with the eye contact back before HYDRA. He suspected the answer was no, which he ( _guiltily_ ) liked, because it meant he was the only person to have been on the receiving end of all that intimate intensity.

Now, it was a lifeline, something for his mind to hold onto as he shook with pleasure. Those eyes saw things in him that no one else ever had, were always filled with appreciation, and understanding, and love. It made him feel crazy all over again, but also safe enough to just toss his fears ( _he’d learned the hard way that nothing lasts forever_ ) aside, give himself over to the happiness.

“Yeah, that’s it,” James said, “I’m not going anywhere, Antoshka.”

They kissed again, the soft play of lips beautifully synced up with the sensation of James’s cock throbbing deep inside of him.

“Me neither,” Tony promised, grinning wildly. “You and me, right?”

James answered him with a moan, another kiss, and by pulling back enough to wrap a hand around Tony’s cock. “Me and you,” he agreed.

Slow and steady was abandoned for hard and fast, James’s hand working in time with his thrusts, and Tony held on, heels digging into James’s ass encouragingly, panting with pleasure. 

He was damp with sweat, frantic, his body vibrating with pleasure, and somehow, despite all of this, the orgasm still caught him completely off guard; Tony cried out loudly, while James smirked down at him, continued stroking him until Tony had to smack his hand away, giggling as he did so.

"Overload," he gasped, still feeling giddy and overwhelmed.

James grabbed him by the hips and drove into him, whimpering with each thrust. Tony stared up at him, thinking of destiny and dancing at weddings, watching the change ripple across James's face as he edged closer to his own orgasm.

"I've got you," Tony said, giving James's words back to him.

A flurry of expletives uttered in Russian came pouring out of James's mouth, even as his hips lost their rhythm and he emptied himself inside of Tony, fingers digging into his skin as he held on for dear life.

Moments later, Tony had an armful of James, and he held on tightly, running his hands over every bit he could reach before rubbing soothing circles against his back until James finally managed to prop himself up a bit.

"You okay?" he asked, pink faced, and sweaty, and gorgeous.

"Okay? No, not even close to it," Tony paused to kiss him, brushing the hair out of James's face. "I'm ridiculously happy, and a little fucked out, that's what I am."

He kissed James again, slow and lingering, and it was difficult because neither of them could stop grinning ear to ear.

"You seemed lost for a minute back there," James murmured, his eyes searching Tony's face.

"No, not lost. Just... It's weird, you know?"

Because it was James, he didn't need to explain further; he got it. Happiness could feel dangerous, untrustworthy, could leave you squirming with guilt and fear. Love could feel threatening, at least until you just let go, and accepted that you were worthy of it, were capable of giving it in return. It was hard not to get caught up in anticipating the end, but Tony was determined to do his best, to focus on the now, on every moment they had together, value it accordingly.

“Yeah, I know,” James agreed. He shifted around until he was curled against Tony, head tucked under his chin. “We could always quit, go live on that island.”

Tony laughed, and snuggled even closer, rubbing his cheek against the top of James’s head. “Come on, you’ve been subjected to enough pop culture by now to know that retiring is the kiss of death. We’ll just honeymoon on the island. For, like, a year.”

James propped himself up on an elbow, a strange, almost childlike look of wonder plastered across his face. “I like this plan.”

“Of course you do, I’m great at plans,” Tony said with a smile, feeling flustered, and unsure as to why, exactly, he was feeling that way. His confusion must have been obvious, because James’s expression shifted into deviousness, which was a distractingly good look on him. 

“What?”

James only smirked, and kissed him again, before shaking his head. “Nothing,” he said, biting into his lower lip a bit as he smiled. “Just coming up with my own plans. How ‘bout a shower, then I’ll make us some French Toast?”

“Not a bad plan,” Tony answered, stretching like a cat. 

He shifted to get up, but found himself pinned in place, James’s bionic hand against the arc reactor. He’d ditched the smirk for a goofy smile. “I love you.”

“Yeah you do,” Tony said, placing his hand over James’s. “I love you, too.”

This got him another round of kisses, before he found himself being pulled up and out of the bed, James holding his hand as he led Tony to the shower. When James let go of his hand to turn on the shower, Tony gave him a little smack on the ass, and decided that after French Toast, and possibly a nap, he’d fire up a new project with JARVIS: Operation Proposal.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ARGH! This took forever. Sorry about the delay, but, you know, being an adult sucks pretty bad sometimes. What can you do? Gots to pay the bills, so...
> 
> Anyway, FINALLY! Snuggles! Good feelings! Tony has realizations! And tips his hand without even realizing it, ha ha ha. I think a little bit of melancholy slipped in at points, but considering the source, this is amazingly free of angst. *pats self on back*
> 
> Seriously, though, these idiots are so in love. I'm looking forward to them dancing at Pepper's wedding.
> 
> Also, in case you missed it, I made the cover to [Bruce's autobiography](https://33.media.tumblr.com/c5f15624a7e2e22dea81a17bdde0589b/tumblr_ne44zuc8vS1tdhtd8o1_1280.jpg). I regret nothing.


End file.
